


Anytime You Feel Like You Just Can't Go On (Hold On To Our Love And You'll Never Be Alone)

by LifeLover



Category: Murdoch Mysteries
Genre: Brackenreid is a big softy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, George is helplessly loyal, Healing Sex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Threesome - M/M/M, brief mention of Eliza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 20:52:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LifeLover/pseuds/LifeLover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Murdoch is in a bad way after the latest case. Brackenreid and Crabtree take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anytime You Feel Like You Just Can't Go On (Hold On To Our Love And You'll Never Be Alone)

**Author's Note:**

> THE WORLD NEEDS MORE MURDOCH MYSTERIES SLASH!!! Also, Brackenreid is a huge softy. And George is loyalty. And Murdoch is so loveable when he's sevsitive and emotionally hurt. Yep.  
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inspector Thomas Brackenreid took sip of his tea as he gazed over at Detective Murdoch's office.  The Detective could be seen sitting in his chair, shoulders slumped.  The lights were off and he was gazing blankly into space. While Brackenreid knew Murdoch sometimes went into his mind to puzzle out a case, he knew also that this was not what was happening.

 

The previous case had been nasty and, unfortunately, had hit all of Murdoch's sore spots. All his hidden landmines.  The victim had been a girl, Vanessa Ford who was dying of consumption, helped along by her abusive drunkard of a father who thought the consumption was a punishment from God.  Reeling from the shock, Murdoch had been almost seconds too late from preventing the girl's younger brother, only age 9, from being beaten to death as well.  The boy, Richard, would luckily recover given time, but he knew Murdoch's head would be spinning with what-ifs.  What if he had been a few seconds later? Why hadn't he seen it earlier? He would also be remembering Eliza, his old fiance, who had also died of consumption.

 

His musings were interrupted by a quiet voice beside him. “He doesn't look too good, does he sir?”

 

Turning his head, he saw Constable George Crabtree standing beside him, arms slightly crossed, one hand by pursed lips.  Crabtree would never be handsome, but he was young and eager.  Sincere, earnest and innocent, as well as possessed of an imagination that could inadvertently lighten a tense mood, Crabtree was certainly a welcome addition to Station House 4.  Brackenreid, for all that he wished to strangle Murdoch or Crabtree, usually both, several times a day, wouldn't wish them anywhere else.

 

He nodded, setting the cup of tea down on his desk. “This case was a right cock-up, wasn't it? And it left us a depressed Murdoch. Bloody chuffin' hell!”

 

“Sir,” Crabtree said thoughtfully, his finger tapping against his mouth, “what if when our brains are reminded of traumatic events, they try to forget? What if in his grief, Murdoch is destroying his own brain? And if we do destroy our own brains, why would anyone want to feel emotions? Or is the payout worth the risk? I propose ...”

 

As Crabtree talked, Brackenreid pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.  He loved the kid, but why couldn't he ever just be practical?

 

“Crabtree!” He barked. The other immediately stopped talking, a hurt look flashing through his eyes. “I just want to help him,” he remarked quietly.  Brackenreid softened slightly and pushed himself off his seat on the desk. “Come on then, bugalugs.  Let's put your enthusiasm to some real use.”

 

They entered through the door to Murdoch's office.  Crabtree knelt down beside Murdoch, one hand slightly above his knee. “Sir? Sir, can you hear me? I need you to look at me.  It's all right sir, you can come out of there.”  There was no response and Crabtree's other hand took hold of Murdoch's hand, curling his fingers around the unresponsive appendage. “Sir, it's just me and the Inspector. Please? William?”

 

Murdoch sighed, his eyes focusing, seeming to come back from somewhere far away.  His hand squeezed the other's.  “George? What …?”

 

“I'm here, sir.” George replied, a relieved grin lighting up his face.  “It's okay.  We want to take you somewhere safe, if that's okay with you of course.”

 

“We?”

 

“I'm here as well, me ol' mucker,” Brackenreid said quietly from where he stood leaning against the closed door.  Murdoch turned his head to look and the Inspector inhaled sharply at the expression, at the emotions he could read in his colleague and friend's eyes. _No one could show utter devastation and pain quite like Murdoch_ , he thought distantly as he kept the other's gaze.  With an ache in his chest, he spoke. “Murdoch.”

 

Whatever he saw in Brackenreid's eyes made Murdoch shiver slightly. Hoarsely, he said “Sir, I ...I ...”

 

“Will,” the ginger man replied, “let us make you feel better.”

 

Murdoch closed his eyes and nodded slightly.  He was able to pull himself together until they were at the small house the three of them owned for when they needed it.  It helped that in the carriage, they kept physical contact with Murdoch, grounding him and preventing him from spiraling off into his own mind again.

 

When they arrived there, they immediately steered Murdoch into the bedroom to divest each other and him of their garments. After the two had gotten undressed, they started on Murdoch.  He stood passively, not stopping them, but not helping them either.  When he stood there in the nude, Brackenreid cupped one cheek in his large palm. Murdoch couldn't help moving into the warmth of the hold, although he still stood tense and stiff.  Brackenreid sighed and moved forward, encircling Murdoch in a warm embrace, his hand moving to guide the dark head onto the Inspector's shoulder. His fingers stroked softly through the ink-black hair.

 

“It's all right, me ol' mucker,” he murmured gently, pressing a small kiss to the top of the head. “Let it go, let it all out.”  Murdoch instantly sagged into the strength of Brackenreid's grasp, tremors running through his body as he started to cry brokenly.  Crabtree encircled him from behind, the two cocooning their Detective, letting him express everything.  Patiently waiting until they could begin the healing process.

 

Eventually, the sobs stopped and Murdoch just stood there, breathing in and out, small hitches occurring every so often.  The others helped him move onto the bed, and George leaned over, kissing Murdoch. His kiss was soft and sweet and sincere, promising loyalty and friendship.  Murdoch kissed back, his expression softening into something fond as George's trust worked its magic.  George then started to work on Murdoch's neck with his tongue. Murdoch extended his neck for George as Brackenreid cupped the back of head and explored his mouth.  Brackenreid's kiss was full of power and authority, a grounding anchor and a towering strength freely and gladly given to wavering defenses. Murdoch surrendered, tension draining away and eyes sliding shut as he gave all control over to the older man.

 

“Thomas … please,” Murdoch gasped, whimpering as the two teamed up on his nipples, sucking and licking. Brackenreid rubbed his thumb over the other's lower lip, knowing what the man was asking. “You sure?” “Yes,” Murdoch replied, “I want you. Want you in me.”  George grinned as he held onto William's hip, “And my mouth on you, sir?” Murdoch nodded, tensing as Brackenreid's fingers, coated in oil, entered him and began stretching, preparing him for the Inspector.  George descended on Murdoch's cock with enthusiasm, humming around the length as Murdoch arched into the hot suction with a strangled cry. One hand played with the balls, the other at the base of the erection, keeping him from coming.

 

Murdoch shivered as Crabtree's mouth left him, the air cool on his heated flesh. However, it turned into a moan of pleasure as Brackenreid entered him from behind, one arm circling Murdoch's waist, tugging him back against his chest, holding him secure and safe.  The other helped Murdoch move up and down in his lap, George resuming his sucking of Murdoch until a ragged cry broke out as Brackenreid hit the small bump in Murdoch that caused him to lose control.  The pleasure raged among the three of them until George came over his hand, moaning in pleasure.  The sensation shot through Murdoch and he came, struggling for air, George swallowing it all.  The tight clench around Brackenreid's cock sent him over the edge as well and he collapsed on the bed, pulling Murdoch down with him.

 

George got a wetted cloth from a side room, cleaning them all up before crawling into Murdoch's arms, pulling the blanket over the three of them.  Brackenreid was still holding onto Murdoch from behind, being his protection and sanctuary, hand rubbing soothingly over the hot skin. He murmured, “go on then, bugalugs,” yawning tiredly.  Crabtree chuckled, carding one hand through Murdoch's hair as he whispered, “feeling better, sir?”

 

“Yes,” Murdoch replied, voice dreamy and languid. “Thank you George. And you too sir,” he added, nestling back against Brackenreid. “I … needed that, I think. An anchor. Reality. Hope, maybe.”  Brackenreid smiled against Murdoch's shoulder. “No problem at all, Murdoch. We'll always be there, you know that. You're not alone.”  George nodded, “You'll never be alone, sir. Not with our love.”

 

“No,” Murdoch said softly, drowsily. “Never alone. I have you two.”

 

And that would always be the truth.


End file.
